Robert Pirelli remembered by brother

Following is a letter written by Shawn Pirelli, brother of Army Staff Sgt. Robert Pirelli of Franklin, who was killed one week ago in Iraq. The letter was released by the Army on the family's behalf.

William Shakespeare once wrote "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women are merely players; They have their exits and entrances ..."

All things die, but some never live. Each individual is offered an opportunity to excel, yet many a person relinquishes this gift, never to comprehend with certainty his or her true potential. Others, like the burning of one thousand blazing suns, live among the stars. This is to one whom has sacrificed his own breath so that others can breathe.

Robert Ryan Pirelli, 29-years-young, a brother, son, friend, confidant, and soldier, died on Wednesday after being struck in the head with a bullet. On a mission in Iraq, Rob was killed by a rogue bullet and died sometime on Wednesday, August 15.

As a beloved solder, his wisdom rivaled no other; his devotion to family and friends radiated from the depths of his soul to the horizon of infinity. Like a star which cannot be extinguished by the darkness around it, Robert Pirelli left a footprint on this speck of dust we call existence.

A man of great ambitions, Rob graduated from Franklin High School in 1996. He attended Northeastern University during the fall semester of 1996. As a student of criminal justice, he decided to strive to become a member of the Secret Service in Washington, D.C. In 2001, Rob graduated from Northeastern and began his means to achieve his dream of protecting the country. In 2003, he joined the United States armed forces to become a Green Beret.

Plastered against the cream-colored wall, above his bed, resides a map of the United States. Scattered throughout the map are sticky-stars to all of the locations he has trained and been based. The room, which gives the feeling of twilight, projects only a silhouette of the window shade onto the floor where pictures are scattered - removed from the safety of leather-bound books and plastic. The room is sullen, but the knowledge of him lives on.

I remember the last words he spoke to me on Christmas Day of 2006. He had me convinced that he was bulletproof. I have known him for 23 years, and for the duration of my life, I will never believe he was scared for a second. He was the beacon of fearlessness and strength. In a strange way, I am still convinced he is bulletproof.

Some things are hard to forget. Three soldiers from Rob's team had come to Massachusetts to be with the family. On Friday, we all sat and told stories of the times when Rob was with us. Somewhere, in that room, Rob was immortalized. He existed, if only for a second, in the majesty of our words, the passion of our tears, and the hammers in our hearts.

One story was told by one family member: "Rob was always afraid of bees. It was to the point where it was almost funny," he began. "Well, one day we had gotten into a heavy argument and he pinned me against the floor and told me to take my words back." He took a short breath and continued. "So, I finally took it back to get him off of me." A small grin preceded the next sentence. "Well, being very pissed that he would do that to me, I went outside, captured a live bee in a glass and let it go in his room." After the room erupted into laughs, another family member asked, "Did you ever tell him?" The former replied, "Hell no! He would have killed me for sure."

We will always remember Rob for his insatiable thirst for achievement; the many lessons he had taught us along the way (from why one should not fold an AK suited to how to shoot a wrist shot). Some remember him as an unsung hero, a soldier, a friend, a hockey goalie, and a teacher. The truth is I will always remember him as my brother; someone who would sit with me in the cold green grass and wonder about the years that passed.

From the Milford Daily news

Related Link:
Robert R. Pirelli dies 'wounds sustained from enemy small arms fire'